Fated for War

by Travis Bughi

  “Kollskegg, if you didn’t know, is actually the name of my grandfather’s brother, who died in childhood. My father thinks my uncle inherited the souls of two men by being given the name of the dead child. If the legends of Kollskegg are even half true, I’d be inclined to believe it as well. I only met my uncle once or twice, being that he was always away on journeys when I was in the village, but I remember his huge heart and strength. So, when I and my sisters were born, my father named each of us after children who had died young in this village. He hoped we’d grow stronger for it.”

  “Do you think it worked?” Nicholas asked, wiping broth from his beard.

  “It was worth a try,” Lidun said with a shrug. “In Ulferior’s case, I wish it had worked better.”

  Dinner didn’t last long with so much left to be done before nightfall. Although the summer days in The North were long, they lacked enough hands for all the work. Takeo and the others joined the village in doing what could be done.

  They finished clearing the dead first. Those slaves that remained were instructed to dig a pit and toss the invaders into it, while the villagers took care of their own dead, who were laid out in rows to be collected by friends and family. Then they erected a barricade in the damaged section of the wall, built with equal portions of haste and care, with the last nail hammered home just as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. The hunt for escaped slaves would wait until morning; they couldn’t risk getting ambushed in the dark.

  “I hope they all get free,” Gavin whispered.

  “You can hope all you want,” Takeo replied, voice equally low, “but you keep those opinions to yourself. We aren’t in Lucifan anymore.”

  The watch was doubled, and Takeo and the others all volunteered to help. They were well rested, but few in the village expected sleep to come that night, and volunteers were in ample supply.

  “We’ll find them, those who killed my sister, and return the favor,” Valdis swore.

  “Perpetuate the violence?” Gavin said carefully. “You know that won’t bring your sister back.”

  “I know that,” Valdis said, glaring. “But there’s more to it than that. It’s obvious you’re not a viking. I’ll bet your mother was twice the man you are.”

  Nicholas spoke up, jumping in before tempers could heat. “As much as vikings love to fight the strong, they also consider it necessary to crush the weak. If the Ludinson clan doesn’t retaliate, they’ll look like easy pickings to others. The one ship that escaped with most of their crew? They’ll go back singing of victory and encourage others to raid this place. In The North, you are either the dragon or its prey.”

  “And on and on, until the whole world is dead,” Gavin whispered to Takeo. “And here, I thought Lucifan was dangerous.”

  And here I thought Juatwa and Savara were the only places that suffered eternal war, Takeo thought. Why is everyone so obsessed with death? Is being alive truly so heinous? It must be. We samurai despise it enough.

  The next day found Lidun better able to thank his guests. He encased Takeo in another hug, one strong enough to squeeze the air from his lungs, and apologized for the weakness he’d shown the previous night. Then he begged for another chance to thank those who’d come to his village’s aid.

  Altogether, Takeo hadn’t anticipated such a warm reception. The last jarl he’d met had slammed the door in his face.

  “I would not have it said that Lidun Ludinson was an ungracious host,” Lidun said. “I’ve had my night of mourning. Now, Takeo, if you are up to it, I will have each of your names and histories properly—I’m afraid I wasn’t quite listening yesterday—and I’ll also have the story of my brother’s entry to Valhalla. It will be good to know that my daughter will see a friendly face up there.”

  Takeo was up to it, as he’d told this story many times before. The viking had sacrificed himself to save Takeo and Emily, and for that, Takeo would do all he could to make sure that Koll’s name lived on in eternity. The legend of Kollskegg Ludinson the Sturdy was a tale best told by a fellow warrior.

  “When I met Koll, he was a slave, standing on a platform in some nameless Savara town, sunbaked and furious, determined as ever to survive. I’m not sure you’ve been told about how he got there, but I feel you should know the truth, or at least the truth that Koll told me.”

  Takeo went on to describe what he knew of the viking, from his battle with the hydra to his enslavement, followed by their miraculous escape attempt and subsequent battle before a jinni beneath the ruins of Kings’ Hearth. In particular, Takeo took the time to explain how he and Emily owed the viking their lives for sacrificing himself so that they might escape.

  Lidun had thought the story complete then, but Takeo surprised him. He told of the time when Koll had sent his wife, a valkyrie, down to save Takeo and Emily from a group of orcs.

  “If it hadn’t been for Koll’s wife, Emily and I might never have known that Jabbar was impersonating Ichiro Katsu. I wish we had used the information he gave us better, but at least Koll gave us a chance we’d never have had. If not for Koll, we wouldn’t have known to be looking for Jabbar, and he might have escaped.”

  “That was a good story,” Lidun replied. “I’m glad to hear the truth of it. Honestly, I feel that your tale is more legendary than the ones I’ve heard with embellishments. Wandering satyrs always stretch the truth, and they seem to think telling illogical and baseless tales of my brother will please me. I get some joy out of poking holes in their stories, having known the man myself, but the moment they double down on their lies, I toss the hairy things from my city. If one particularly annoys me, I do the deed with my own hands.”

  Takeo nodded. “So you’re Koll’s brother after all. I mean no offense, but what with the two hugs and all the apologizing you’ve been doing, I was starting to wonder if you were an imposter. The Kollskegg I knew wasn’t half as pleasant.”

  “Aye, well, he had things a bit rough,” Lidun replied. “After Koll lost his family, I took a long look at my wife and children and decided that there was plenty of time ahead of me to reach Valhalla. Until then, I wanted to spend my days and nights with those who meant the most to me. I’m glad I did, because my wife passed a short decade later. There’s not a single battle I’d take to replace those years, and I have Koll to thank for that.”

  “Between you and me, we make that violent man sound more like a wandering philosopher,” Takeo mused.

  “And who’s to say he wasn’t?” Gavin butted in. “Just listening to you two makes me wish I’d met the man. Maybe I would never have gotten so rotten drunk, or maybe I’d have wrestled Takeo for the right to marry Emily.”

  “You’d have lost,” Takeo said.

  “Not true. You see, Emily would have seen my gallant effort, lost her wits as I peeled off my shirt, and pledged her eternal love to me.”

  Takeo’s head turned so slowly towards Gavin that one could almost hear his bones grate. Nicholas and Krunk stiffened, and a silence fell over the hall. Takeo’s face never changed, but behind the placid stare that hid every emotion, his eyes spoke a question that set everyone’s teeth on edge.

  Everyone’s except Gavin’s, that is, and the knight burst into laughter.

  “It was a joke, Takeo! Damn, are you that tense? You need to get laid.”

  He continued to laugh, and the others joined in. Takeo’s head snapped back to the table before him, and his cheeks heated up, but even so, a chuckle escaped his throat.

  * * *

  They spent a long, blessed week in Lidun’s company before departing. After a good portion of the slaves were recaptured by warg scouting parties, the food quality increased, as did the softness of the beds and the quantity of mead. There was also the matter of pleasant company, as Lidun was indeed a gracious host.

  He demanded lengthy stories from Takeo and each of his companions, even from Krunk who seemed nervous to speak more than three sentences at a time. Lidun never interrupted, other than to encourage the ogre to continue, and never
shied from a roar of laughter nor hesitated to shed a tear. He explained that every person, if given the chance, had a wholly unique story that one could only experience by listening carefully.

  “There is an old saying,” Lidun explained, “that a normal man only lives one life, but he who hears a story lives two. Well, I am determined not to stop there; I would live hundreds of lives, and I would hear more from the four who helped saved my people.”

  The funeral pyre for the dead and the subsequent wake to celebrate their lives were equally joyous and mournful. Takeo found the experience interesting because back in Juatwa, the dead were ignored. When someone perished, it was considered weak to let it affect you. Tears, sorrow, grieving, all of this was to be done in private so as not to disturb your fellows.

  The vikings held no such emotions in check.

  The mead flowed, there was a huge dancing ring set up before the fires, and music, stories, dancing, wrestling, fighting, and general silliness were encouraged. Anyone caught acting too uptight was made a mockery of and flung into the spotlight to be showered with attention until they broke and joined in. Of course, Takeo was subjected to this treatment, and he found it a huge chore to smile constantly enough to keep the horde of drunks from assaulting him.

  “Every place has a different culture,” Takeo shouted to Gavin over the roar of the crowd, “but every place demands conformity to theirs.”

  “Of course!” Gavin shouted back, slurring his speech, holding a mug in each hand. “If no one conformed to it, there wouldn’t be a culture at all.”

  “That’s damned intriguing for a drunken fool.”

  “Don’t tell me that when I’m sober. I might regain a pinch of my old self-esteem.”

  “Noted.”

  After the festival, everyone set to putting the old village back together. There weren’t enough slaves to accomplish the tasks in a timely matter, so Takeo helped with the things he was more suited to do, such as felling trees, shearing their branches, digging post holes, and lashing the walls of buildings back together.

  When there wasn’t work to do, stories to tell, food to eat, or music to play, Takeo found himself sitting just outside the village, staring out at the stars. He was alone the first night, but after that, Krunk, Nicholas, and Gavin began to join him, either separately or together, at various points until sleep overtook them. By the end of the week, they were even joined by a few of Lidun’s daughters. Valdis was the first to visit, and the last to say goodbye.

  “I really want to thank you,” she said. “I hope you find what you’re looking for in Juatwa, Takeo. Also, know that I won’t forget this—not just what you’ve done here through sweat and blood, but also through words and kindness. My father looks ten years younger now, thanks to you all, and it warms my heart to know that there is still some light left in this world.”

  “So true,” Nicholas responded. “It seems the world grows darker every day.”

  “Things are so bad now,” Valdis continued. “I wish that one shogun in Juatwa would finally dominate the others and one warlord in Savara would finally rule supreme. Sometimes, I wish one of the jarls would finally win one of the wars they start, and conquer us all. I don’t even care who it is, really, not even if they’re a tyrant, just so long as the wars finally stop.”

  “You’re of a similar mind as your father, then?” Gavin asked.

  “If by that you mean I value time with my family over a glorious death, then yes. I am a rare breed, and I’m not upset by that in the least.”

  Takeo listened intently to those conversations. He was always fascinated by people who broke the mold they were born into.

  When they left, it was to a goodbye that was just as warm as their reception, with hugs, tears, waves, and a stockpile of food and drink to keep them well supplied. They were given ample advice as well, warnings about which towns to trust and which to avoid, whose name to drop where, and what paths were equal parts safe and quick.

  Overall, Takeo reckoned their trip to Lidun Ludinson’s village to have been a great idea, and Nicholas grinned widely when he was told so.

  The next few months’ travel through The North went smoothly. They heeded all advice, especially the warning to avoid trouble. Although they’d risked helping Lidun’s village, it was clear that The North was no longer a place for heroes. If there was black smoke in the sky, that marked a place to avoid.

  However, they hadn’t anticipated seeing so much smoke. In one day alone, they saw three different columns. It was enough to make the heart sink.

  “If I had doubted anything I’d heard before,” Gavin said, “this would be the proof to convince me. Hell has come to the world of the living.”

  No one agreed, but no one denied. They gave respect through silence.

  By the time they reached Khaz Mal again, the east side now, winter had come. It was a long slog through those great mountains, the going made tough by heavy snowfall and the need to find shelter large enough to fit them all. It took nearly half a year to travel through those frigid shelves of rock, and then it took another few months to pass through Juatwa’s foothills and reach the lands of Lady Xuan.

  Just shy of two years had passed since he’d left Lucifan, and little did Takeo know, his journey had only just begun.

  Chapter 17

  Juatwa was unique in the world because it was split into three different types of terrain: grassy plains in the south, tough foothills in the north, and dense forest in between. The only commonality among the three was that each was lush enough to support a plethora of delicate and beautiful plant life. In Juatwa’s northern foothills, even in the midst of winter, trees bloomed with pink and white flowers, while light yet warm rains touched the skin softly, and gentle breezes carried deep aromas that lulled one to sleep. Juatwa was so fertile that there was always some kind of plant in full bloom, and the air felt perfect, no matter the time of year or day.

  It took hardly a week for Takeo’s companions to begin showering him with unnecessary observations.

  “Wow, this place,” Gavin said, slack jawed at the first sunset. “This place is beautiful. The colors, the flowers, I’m in awe. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “Krunk say pretty. Krunk want to stay.”

  “A place like this would make a man soft,” Nicholas said. “No wonder samurai tend to be shorter and thinner than other warriors. Why would anyone fight in a place like this?”

  “Don’t let the view fool you,” Takeo warned them, as he did every newcomer. “This land is just as hideous as the rest of them. It just hides it better.”

  They heard his words, but their hearts required proof. Takeo did not rush it. There would be plenty of time for that.

  “So then, Juatwa, we’re here.” Gavin drew in a long breath as they marched through a field of yellow flowers, spreading his arms wide. “Finally! You know, in all my visions of the future, I never imagined I’d end up in this place.”

  “Krunk, too,” the ogre said, then stopped suddenly to take a knee in the field. “Krunk always thought world stopped at Lucifan.”

  Krunk reached down and snatched up a handful of flowers. He brought them to his nose and sucked in a deep breath before sneezing. A glob of phlegm and drool showered the flowers, and Nicholas laughed.

  Takeo sighed, speaking silently to the land, Must you lie to them? Must I scoop a handful of dirt away to show them the piles of bones beneath this field?

  “At least this place has no slavery, right?” Gavin said.

  “No slavery here, just permanent indentured servitude.”

  Gavin blinked. “Well, At least they can leave without being hunted down. It took everything I had not to launch into a tirade at Lidun.”

  “It’s a fact of life there,” Nicholas said and shrugged, “Savara, too.”

  “I know that, but it still doesn’t make the act any easier to tolerate. And how can you be so calm about slavery? Weren’t you one?”

  “I was a prisoner,” Nicholas replied fierce
ly. “The pirate just called me a slave to insult me. There’s a difference.”

  “Enough,” Takeo warned.

  They pressed on in silence for a few moments before changing subjects.

  “So, as I was saying,” Gavin said, “here we are. We’re looking for your buried past, Takeo. Where do we start? Don’t break my heart and say somewhere without beautiful women. It has been too long since I’ve seen a pretty smile.”

  “We’ll start at the only logical place.” Takeo lifted his chin to the southeast as if the answer were in plain view. “The last person to mention my family was a samurai named Renshu Miyazi. He was a jerk, to say the least, and I was happy to cut him down, but he mentioned my father like he knew of him. Renshu was close to Ichiro Katsu, so I’m going to assume that meant Renshu heard the story of my father from Katsu. And on the night of Lady Xuan’s attack, everyone close to Katsu was either killed or captured by her.”

  “Ah.” Gavin drew in a deep breath. “So we are bound for the failed Empress of Juatwa, then? Assuming that old woman is still alive.”

  “Like I said, it seems the logical place to start.”

  “Wouldn’t want to do anything illogical now, would we?”

  Takeo paused and glanced at the knight, wondering if there was something cryptic in those words. If so, Gavin gave no sign and resumed his stroll across the lush field. Takeo let the thought go and led the way.

  The problem was that Takeo had neither seen nor visited Lady Xuan’s keep before. He’d noted its location on a map as Ichiro Katsu had gone over the different ways they could eventually conquer the Old Woman of the Mountain, but he’d never physically seen the place. He knew from some of Ichiro’s and Okamoto’s musings that the keep sat atop a large mountain close to the edge of the foothills, but that gave Takeo little more than a general direction to travel. To rectify this, they stopped off at several villages to ask for directions.

  Gavin and the others got to see how native Juatwa people lived, and if they were surprised by the modesty of it, they made no mention.